Pushing the Brink of Insanity
by passing.strange
Summary: Hermione Granger is pushing the brink of insanity, and she decides that being insane may not be such a bad thing after all.  Dramione, everyone's a little OOC XD Rated T to be safe.  One shot for now, maybe more chapters if enough people ask! *wink*


Of one thing Hermione Granger was certain.

She clearly was **past **the brink of insanity.

How did she know this? Well, at the moment, the Gryffindor Princess, know-it-all mudblood extraordinaire was pressed against the wall by the very demanding lips of a certain blonde-haired Draco Malfoy. To those unaware of the duo's past, this situation may seem uninteresting, and just a tad bit inappropriate seeing as it was in the middle of a classroom at 11:00 at night. The rest of us, though, probably would have passed out from shock at the sight of the two worst enemies locked in a passionate embrace. How could something so bizarre have begun?

To answer that question, we must travel back two days before, where it all began… 

Hermione Granger was in a very bad mood.

For starters, Ronald and Harry had **once again** 'forgotten' to do their transfiguration assignment, so of course they ended up copying off of her perfected one, resulting in McGonagall reprimanding them all for plagiarism. Ginny had spilt pumpkin juice all over her at lunch, resulting in her smelling rotten all day. Then, to top it off, she had been paired with Malfoy, of all people, for a potions assignment!

_Merlin help me._

She was currently doing all of the work on their potion when Malfoy decided to make an offhand comment that pushed her to the edge.

"If you don't mind me asking, Granger, why in the name of Merlin do you smell like arse?"

Hermione slammed her potions book down on the desk and turned to look at Malfoy, who now had a very horrified expression on his face.

"Why, Malfoy? _Why?_ I'm sitting here, doing all the bloody work on **our** potion, and the only damn thing that you can do is comment on why I smell like **ARSE?**" Hermione's face was a bright red, and her hair seemed to be flowing around her face with a life of its own. Draco had regained his composure, however, and decided that he wouldn't let the conversation drop.

"Actually, Granger, I believe you're standing, not sitting." he placed a sickly-sweet smile on his face, and Hermione turned even more livid.

"YOU STUPID SON OF A…" without warning, hexes began to fly in every direction, and the whole classroom was thrown into chaos. It was at least five minutes of constant cross fire before a fuming Snape could finally control his two brightest students (Draco's hair now being hot pink and Hermione sporting reindeer antlers). After reversing the spells, he sent the his class swiftly out of the classroom, then turned to face the two rather guilty looking students.

"**Never, in all my years of teaching, have I seen such atrocious behavior**." (yes, the words are even bolded, that's how angry he was). "**For the next three days you shall clean out every single dungeon in this school. If you are not completed within the next three days, the consequences shall be…severe.**" Hermione had never been this scared in her life, not even while she was facing off against Voldemort along side Harry and Ron. While she wasn't letting her fear show, the ferret was quivering like a leaf beside her. _Pathetic_, she thought. Hermione was snapped out of her mocking thoughts by Snape's monotone (but still bolded) voice.

"**Tonight in my classroom, nine o'clock. Don't be late**." he snarled, exiting the classroom in a tidal wave of billowing black robes.

As soon as he left the room, Hermione rounded on Draco.

"You IDIOT!" she screeched. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Malfoy looked astonished, his stormy grey eyes narrowing into slits.

"MY FAULT? BLOODY HELL MUDBLOOD, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO HEXED ME IN THE FIRST PLACE! ALL I DID WAS ASK YOU WHY YOU SMELT WORSE THAN MERLINS ARSE!" they both whipped out their wands, staring at each other with absolute venom. Another wand-war surely would have ensued had the bell not rung, signaling the end of class. Hermione shoved her wand back into her robes, giving Malfoy an inappropriate hand gesture as she did so, and stalked out of the classroom, certain her day had just gone from bad, to infinitely worse. 

At exactly nine pm, a furious Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger stood impatiently in Professor Snape's office, anxious for him to get started on their punishment. For once in their lives, neither were insulting each other. Instead, they just shot cold glares, too afraid of what Snape would do if he caught them in another hexing battle.

The teacher in question entered the office a moment later, his cold grey eyes looking savage. Beside Hermione, Malfoy gulped, and she let out an involuntary shudder. She didn't want to know the punishment if they didn't finish cleaning the dungeons in three days. Knowing Snape, it would probably be some sort of Death Eater-esque torture, something Hermione had no real desire to experience.

"As you know, you two shall be cleaning out all five of my personal dungeons within the next three days. If you fail to do so, you shall be punished…my way." he grinned a smile even greasier than his hair, making Hermione dry heave silently.

"I knew you hadn't heard of shampoo, Professor, but I always figured you had heard of toothpaste. Somehow, I think I was wrong." Draco snapped sarcastically, and Hermione couldn't help but begin to laugh uncontrollably, not even caring that it was Malfoy who cracked the joke. Snape merely snarled under his breath (if it was anyone but Malfoy they would have been hexed into oblivion) and screamed at them to get out.

"One last thing," Snape called before the duo (Hermione still shaking with silent laughter) "No. Magic. Allowed." 

If there was one thing in the world Hermione hated more than being alone with Malfoy, it was being alone with Malfoy **without a wand**. She was afraid that at any given moment he would turn around and hex her. She **hoped** he wouldn't be stupid enough to do that, but, this was Malfoy after all. He's done plenty of stupid things in his life.

They had been cleaning their second dungeon for little over an hour after taking two hours cleaning the first, before Hermione finally spoke for the first time all night.

"This bloody sucks." she muttered, not planning on Draco hearing. He did, of course, and of **course** he had to reply.

"Tell me about it, a whole three nights with a mudblood, the horror!" he mock fainted, and Hermione threw her wet sponge at him. Malfoy let out a girly scream that was even higher than Hermione's, and she was brought into another fit of hysterics. His face flushed in embarrassment, and he tried (and failed) to regain his cool composure without letting the blush on his cheeks show through.

"Oi, Granger, these are designer robes!" he sputtered, soap bubbles flying out of his mouth. This caused Hermione to laugh even harder, and soon she was choking on her giggles.

"Well then, Malfoy, I guess you should have thought about that before you called me a mudblood, right?" she barely managed to spit out in between her laughter. Before she knew it, though, he had thrown his own sponge at her, hitting her square in the face. "Hey, what was that for!" Malfoy had joined in on her laughter (although she had stopped as soon as the soapy sponge hit her in the face), but his was much more controlled and he managed to speak without sounding like an idiot.

"Now we're even." he said with a smirk, but before he could say anymore, Hermione had splashed nearly half her bucket of water overtop of his head. She let out a maniacal laugh, and jumped up from her spot on the floor.

Soon, a war was occurring between the enemies for the second time that day, except this one was not nearly as dangerous as the first. In fact, both were laughing their heads off the whole time, not even realizing that they were doing something friendly. All Hermione could think of was the way Draco's robes clung to his muscles when he was wet, and all Malfoy could think about was the beautiful chiming sound that was Hermione's laugh. For some reason, though, these thoughts didn't seem strange to the pair at the time. As a matter of fact, they seemed natural, right.

After minutes of running around the room, they collapsed in a heap on the ground, still laughing. The room was now spotless after the amount of water that they had thrown, and upon realizing this, they laughed even harder.  
Draco was the first to regain his composure, and therefore the first to speak.

"That was a creative way of cleaning the classroom." he said with a brilliant smile, making Hermione's heart flutter in her chest. She chuckled, pushing herself off of the ground.

"Very much so. Everyone in the dormitory is going to be wondering why my robes are soaking wet, though." Hermione mused, trying to think of an explanation as to why her robes looked like she had just gone parading in the rain. She didn't think anybody would believe her if she told them she had a water fight with Draco Malfoy, and even if they did, they would think she had gone off her rocker. _Perhaps I have…_

"Tell them I pushed you into the Black Lake. I think that sounds realistic enough." Hermione couldn't help but laugh again, and it astounded her how much she laughed around. Malfoy.

"I suppose I could tell them that. Good night, Draco." She said absent mindedly, not even realizing that she had called him by his first name. Draco had, of course, and he lay down in the middle of the dungeon, silently cursing Hermione Granger and her cute rosy cheeks.

_Tomorrow will be different_, he assured himself, _you'll go back to hating each other, and all of these feelings will disappear. _

The next night, though, they found the feelings didn't disappear, nor did they want them too. Sure, things between the two seemed a little bit awkward at first, but after Draco insulted Snape's appearance , **yet again, **and Hermione went into another round of laugh-attacks, **yet again**, they became comfortably friendly.

They had been chatting absent mindedly during their first dungeon, but when they had finished and were heading to their next room, Hermione asked the question that had been on her mind (and Draco's) all day.

"What does this mean?" she asked timidly, as if she was afraid of the answer. Of course, Draco knew exactly what he meant, but he couldn't help but ask "What?"

"This, Draco. Us, being friends. You know just as well as I do that nobody would accept it, so I ask once again, what does this mean?" Hermione's brown eyes looked up to meet his grey ones, and she knew that she wanted to stay friends with him. It was nearly impossible to believe that just the day before they had nearly hexed each others arses into another dimension.  
Draco stopped in the hallway, grabbing Hermione by the arm so she was turned to face him.

"Tell me, Granger," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath making Hermione's heart pound in her head. "Since when have you ever cared what other people will think? Who the hell are they to say who we can and can't be friends with? I know we've hated each other for so long, and I know this will be a challenge, but look at us. We can do it, together. Only if that's what you want, though." Draco added the last sentence as an after-thought, wary of the fact that Hermione might not **want **to continue being friends with him. After all, he had been a right foul git to her for the last six years (yesterday included). **He **wouldn't even want to be friends with himself, if he was in Hermione's position.

To his surprise and delight, though, Hermione wacked his arm with her hand, and looked at him like he had another eye growing in the middle of his forehead. "What, are you insane? Of course I want to be friends with you, Draco! (wow, never thought I'd hear myself say that). Lets just…keep it a secret for a bit, okay?"

Draco laughed, feeling relieved. He knew she would say yes, but he couldn't help but worry.

"Sounds like a plan, Gra—Hermione." he flashed her one of his trademark smirks, and her insides churned a little. "Now, I don't think we **really** need to do another classroom tonight, do you?" Draco looked devious, and Hermione mock frowned. Of course she would ditch with him, honestly she would do anything with him…anything rated PG-13, and under, of course. Well, 14-A at the most. Well, R doesn't sound too bad…

Hermione snapped out of her trance and grinned, shaking her head. "Oh why not. But on one condition." she said, raising her eyebrow at him. Draco nodded, willing her to continue. "You never call me a mudblood again." He laughed, relieved that that was all there was he had to do.

"Deal." He agreed, linking arms with her. "Now, let's go to the kitchens and see if the house elves can fix us up anything to eat." 

Hermione Granger was livid. If she thought she was mad two days ago, her condition was even worse off now. Pumpkin juice spilt on her robes? She would **die** to trade places with her past self rather than be where she was now. Right now all she wanted to do was rip ever single piece of platinum blonde hair out of Draco Malfoy's skull. Why?

Earlier today, Harry, Ron, and herself had been wandering the hallways on their way to potions when they had ran right into Draco and his gang of Slytherin cronies. Hermione hadn't wanted to fight, obviously, but she decided that in order to keep up appearances she should at least give Draco a dirty look. So, she gave him her best fake death-glare, hoping that they could get out fight-free, but no. He had to go and ruin it all for her. Just by uttering that one word, she had gone from a brilliant mood to the worst mood of her whole life.

"Going somewhere, mudblood?"

For the first time in a long time, Hermione could feel the prickling of tears behind her eyes. How could he? She made him **swear** he wouldn't call her that anymore. Didn't he see how it affected her?

Hermione clenched her fists by her side while Harry and Ron tried to steer her away from the jeering Slytherins. Had she been paying attention, she would have noticed the look of horror in Draco's eyes as he realized what he had just said. But all she could focus on was that word, that one word that blared in her mind like an alarm.

_Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood. That's all you are to him, a filthy mudblood, and that's all you'll ever be. How could you have thought otherwise? You mean nothing to him, nothing. _

Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione had sprinted to the girls loo, locking herself in a stall, just like in first year. Somehow, though, this was so much worse. First year, it was only Ron, someone who she just wanted to be friends with, not anything else. This time, it was someone who had begun to mean something to her, a boy who she had, in the course of two days, begun to see as more than just a friend. And he had to go and ruin it all, just by saying that one word.

_Mudblood._

__

At nine o'clock that night, in the first of their last two dungeons, Draco began to worry Hermione wouldn't show up. He had heard Potthead and the Weasel talking about how she hadn't been at any of her classes today, and he hadn't seen her at dinner, either. How could he have been such an idiot?

Last night, he **swore** to Hermione he would never call her that filthy name again, yet he had anyways. Now, he was horrified she would never speak to him again.

After about five minutes, a frazzled Hermione walked in, looking like she had spent the last six hours crying in a loo (which she of course had, but Draco didn't know this). She pointedly ignored him when he tried to smile at her, getting straight to work cleaning at the opposite end of the dungeon, as far away from him as possible.

Draco swore underneath his breath. So far, today was not going as planned.

Without all the talking, Draco and Hermione had nearly finished their second dungeon by eleven o'clock. And while Hermione was perfectly content with the awkward silence, Draco couldn't stand it anymore. After cleaning underneath a suspicious looking chemical, he turned to face her, a determined look on his face.

"Hermione."  
"Yes, Ferret?"

Draco grimaced at the memory of being turned into a little white ferret by a former professor, but didn't let her insult throw him off track.

"I'm sorry. I know what I did was wrong, and horrible, and awful, and I don't expect you to ever talk to me again, and I know you don't think I'm sorry…" he began to rant, but Hermione cut him off.

"No, Malfoy, you're right. I **don't** think you're sorry. How could you call me that? Right after I told you not to? It's not that hard!" she was fuming, looking like an absolute mad-woman.

"What can I do, Hermione? What can I do to make it up to you?" Draco pleaded, looking like a lost puppy in the middle of a thunderstorm. Hermione was about to screech "NOTHING" at the top of her lungs, but then she got a better idea.

"Kiss me." she demanded.

"What?"

"Kiss me!" Hermione repeated, more forcefully this time. Having finally understood what she said, Draco grinned like a madman, and kissed her, taking Hermione by shock. She had **hoped** he would do it, but she thought he would refuse, saying he would never kiss a mudblood and all that rubbish that she was used to. After she got over the initial shock, however, she gave into the kiss completely, intertwining her hands in his silky blonde hair, all thought of cleaning forgotten.

That brings us to the point we left off—one bushy-haired bookworm content in the arms of a platinum blonde player, and loving every minute of it.

_Hermione Granger_, she thought to herself, _you are clearly __**pushing**__ the brink of insanity._

_Maybe being insane isn't such a bad thing after all._


End file.
